


it's a silver that glows.

by ohmaggies



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:25:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmaggies/pseuds/ohmaggies
Summary: Will sways a little on his feet, hair falling across his temples, tongue wetting his dry lips. One second feels like five minutes, standing here with Alex, pushing away every alcohol-induced thought.Alex closes the small gap between them carefully.





	it's a silver that glows.

**Author's Note:**

> song title is from 'rose' by honest man, which is one of my absolute favourite songs and took my heart by the hand as i was writing this. speaking of my heart, alex and will have it completely. 
> 
> any/all typos are mine, because that's the way it is on this bitch of an earth. sorry! 
> 
> thanks for reading!!

Will only realises he's had too much to drink when he finds himself hunched over the benchtop in Alex and George's kitchen. There's a warm but uncomfortable churning in his belly, a brutal reminder of the too many shots of vodka he let James pass him across the table.

His head pounds, a fist rubbing stars into the back of his left eyelid in hopes it'll ease some of the ache. He came to get a glass of water, because George had slipped Will's bottle of beer from his hand a few minutes previous and told him to. Admittedly, Will isn't exactly one for listening to what George has to say, but Alex had followed after it with a pitiful look that told Will he looked a wreck.

Besides, his mouth is dry. Dry and annoying, and a hindrance enough to mean Will got up to get a drink and George got to be proven right.

“Need a hand?” a voice enquires, a friendly and amused lilt ghosting the words.

Alex.

Will groans in response, nodding weakly as Alex pats him warmly on the back and heads towards the sink.

In Will's defence, it's been a long while since he drank so much in so little time, and he was beyond exhausted when George texted to invite him down. He should've said no, collapsed into bed and slept for as many days as it took for this constant tired spell wear off; but they're his friends, and hanging around them is more fun than sleeping, anyway.

“Someone order a water?” Alex says, laughing gently as he ruffles Will's hair. “‘Least lean up and drink a little, won't hurt you, mate.”

Will lifts his head from the benchtop, standing up straight and waiting for his knees to click as he does so. Alex is staring, and close, and he lifts the glass of water to hand to Will, fingers brushing his as he does so.

The water is cool and unbelievably refreshing, instantly staving off the dryness in his mouth and the dizziness that left him leant over the kitchen tabletop. George was right, for the annoyingly hundredth time, but Will would never admit it. It's not his own pride getting in the way, more preventing George's ego from growing.

Will opens his eyes slightly, half surprised to find Alex hovering. He'd expected him to leave, see what their friends are laughing at on James’ phone, not stick around.

“Thanks,” Will murmurs, glass still poised to his lips. “Needed that, I did.”

“Sure did.” Alex's eyes dart away for a moment before they travel back, something unreadable written in them. “You've, uh- you've got something on your face, left cheek. You mind?”

“Go for it,” Will manages, words croaky in his throat. Better that than going back to his friends and them all snickering over it but refusing to tell him; wouldn't be the first time they had, really. He's guilty of having done it himself, a few times. George, however, is a repeat offender.

Alex moves forward, thumb carefully brushing Will's cheek. The kitchen is warm now, Will rethinking his choice of jumper as Alex presses closer, body heat too much for the small space. He smooths at whatever was on Will's face and goes to move away, though something stops him, because he pauses and flicks his gaze up to meet Will's.

The height difference has never seemed larger, Will thinks. It's the alcohol messing with his mind, that's all, that has him swallowing nervously and pressing slightly into Alex's touch. It's the vodka and red bull and beer forming some kind of lethal poison in his bloodstream, the part of his brain that typically deals with these kind of situations having checked out the moment Alex pressed a careful hand to Will's check.

Will sways a little on his feet, hair falling across his temples, tongue wetting his dry lips. One second feels like five minutes, standing here with Alex, pushing away every alcohol-induced thought; Will wouldn't consider doing this sober, and hasn't.

Alex surges forward, closing the small gap carefully. Will doesn't move, except for the way he finds himself pressing into the kiss, eyelashes tickling his skin as his eyes flutter shut. If he wasn't as drunk, he'd feel more, but the fingers brushing his jawline are enough to ground him, as are the lips moving slowly against his.

Will kisses back, just a little. Just until Alex pulls back, eyes wide and curious and peering into Will's. It's like being pulled apart and shoved back together wrong, the way Alex is looking at him. Like being dissected and then hurriedly closed back up. Will blames the alcohol, for the emotions tormenting his brain and for kissing Alex and for how he can't seem to stop himself from shaking?

“I should go to bed,” Alex says, hand falling from Will's face; its absence is noticeable immediately. “See you tomorrow, mate.”

“Right, yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Will watches Alex leave, and resists the urge to lift his hand and brush his fingers across his lips.

.

“You’re a certified nonce,” is the first thing Will says to Alex when he sees him two morning's after. It’s barely nine in the morning but early nonetheless, and Will’s eyes are slightly blurred from sleep, green jumper he lazily pulled on to answer the door drawing Alex’s attention for a brief moment.

Alex, to his credit, looks somewhat more put together than Will does. Hair not out of place the slightest, his own merch adoring his torso, and a gentle smile on his face greeting Will the moment he opened the door. It’s too early, but there’s something familiar about being tired and hungover with Alex annoyingly okay.

“Good morning to you, too,” Alex says, walking into the room once Will has moved aside with a sigh, enough to let Alex inside his apartment. “George and I don’t have tea, do you mind?”

“Help yourself,” Will shrugs, defeated. He closes the door with a soft click, blinking his eyes a few times to adjust to the newfound daylight as he turns towards Alex, unsurprised to hear the bubble of a kettle boiling. “Thought George had a key, why’d you knock?"

Alex drops something in Will’s kitchen, likely while rummaging through the wrong cupboard. His voice is echoed as he says, “Figured you’d be awake, mate. Late night, last night, then?”

“Early morning,” Will exhales, leaning against the kitchen counter as Alex searches an overhead cupboard. Alex’s height is working against him as he stretches up to reach towards the back of the cupboard, jumper rising up over his hip to display a milky patch of skin that Will finds hard to ignore for a reason he can’t yet figure out. Will forces his eyes away from it to where he can see what Alex is looking for, sitting a few feet away on the bench; tearing his gaze away is harder than it has any business being.

It's too much. The intimacy of seeing something he hasn't been invited to see. He almost wants to ask Alex about the other night just so he'll stop and look at Will, and Will can meet his eye and remember that this is Alex. Just Alex, who's always been more than  _ just _ Alex.

“Right, you found the tea, then? Do I need to show you where it is?” Will makes the effort to shuffle where he is before Alex cuts him off, annoyance seeping into his tone.

“No,” Alex says, firm. “I’ll find it.”

He stretches further up, fabric of his jumper sliding further up and demanding Will’s attention once again. His hip bones are defined, mostly because of how thin he is, and the skin is smooth, milk-white, and near impossible to look away from again. The dark of Alex’s jumper is a stark contrast to how pale he is, and Will’s eyes are glued to it until Alex stops leaning up and clears his throat, eyebrows furrowed together as he watches Will.

Will snaps his eyes to Alex’s.

“Were you checking me out?” Alex smiles, amused. It’s a joke, a harmless one, although the way Will stills says otherwise. “Not that I blame you, of course, but you could at least try and be subtle. Things like this are _ exactly _ why you’re single, William.”

“Alright, Alex. Mind your business, mate,” Will clears his throat.

“You’re the one taking advantage of me being five foot eight,” Alex says, and Will can hear the grin in his voice. He splays his hands out on the bench, jumper covering his waist yet again. “Innocently trying to-- the tea, Will! I’ve found the tea!!”

Will fakes a small grin when Alex rounds on him, the box of tea that was sitting on the bench clasped triumphantly in his hands. His smile is bright, blindingly so; Will’s fake grin gently turns into one much more genuine, an unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest and his heart tightening. It’s difficult to give this a name- and he’s not sure he wants to, really- but it’s  _ something _ , as terrifying as it is, and it’s the anonymity of it that makes Will’s palms begin to sweat.

“Thirsty?” Alex asks, lining two mugs up on the bench.

Will wipes his hands self-consciously on his pants, voice only strained a little when he manages to reply. “Suppose I am, yeah.”

“I’ll make you a tea, then.”

“Should probably take one down for George, too,” Will suggests, scratching his chin out of the desire to do something. “He send you up for them?”

“He’s gone out to Tesco, actually. Probably won’t be long,” Alex replies, picking up their mugs and carefully placing one in front of Will. He’s as quick as he usually is to get comfortable, pulling his feet up on the sofa up with him when he all but falls down onto it. “Wanna watch a movie? George’ll invite his girlfriend over once he’s gotten back, really rather not be there when he does. They haven’t seen each other in a few days.”

Will’s mug is hot when he grabs it, steadying his grip enough to grab the handle and follow in Alex’s footsteps. Alex has taken up a majority of his part on the sofa, feet spread out but folding up towards himself when Will nudges them with his hand, sinking into the cushions as he throws himself down onto them.

“What you got in mind?”

“Dunno, actually,” Alex shrugs, shoulder bumping into Will’s. “Should we see what’s on? Then go from there?”

Will masks a yawn with a fist, breath warm against his hand. This is easily the most tired he’s been in a long time, thanks to a build up of late nights and early mornings, and work days that span anywhere from ten hours to fifteen, leaving little time for social interaction or sleep. And, it’s the first time in three days that the two of them have had the chance to sit down together and just relax, to drink tea and entertain the idea of watching a movie.

Seeing Alex- having him _ close _ enough that his body heat is electricity in Will’s side- is the closest to normal that Will has felt in a while. All the pressure of uploading and editing has dissipated, and it’s not by a large amount but it’s by an amount that makes a difference; really, Will tries to convince himself that he’d think the same with any of his friends, despite knowing it’s because it’s Alex, of all people. Alex, who came up here early in the morning with every intention of staying and not returning to his own apartment.

It's too similar to a kitchen two nights ago, the way Alex came to see Will. The couch means they have to be close, have no choice but to press together in the cool of Will's apartment.

Will shouldn't have kissed Alex, drunk or not. He shouldn't have let himself enjoy it or miss it, or avoid Alex for fear of him bringing it up and making Will face the music. He was  _ drunk _ . He can't take responsibility for leaning into Alex's touch and kissing him back, because vodka makes him do the stupidest of things sometimes and that had to be one of those things.

It was an isolated incident and it won't happen again. Until the next time Will gets drunk and Alex gets close, and maybe there will be a lot of vodka at this next event too, enough to cloud the logical part of Will's brain. Enough to initiate something he shouldn't, and enough to realise ten hours later the next day that he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would.

Will sighs.

“What?”

“Tired, is all,” Will manages, and silently applauds the lack of an obvious lie. “Raincheck on the movie?”

“You need to give yourself a break,” Alex says, and places a comforting hand on Will's thigh. Or, it would be comforting if Will's heart wasn't currently in his throat. “Come out with me and James? George is having a quiet night in with his girlfriend, so we're going to a bar. You could pull, if you wanted.”

“Rather sleep, mate.”

“We can stay in, then. I don't mind,” Alex offers, and Will can tell he means it.

Will swallows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Alex's hand is burning Will's thigh, impossible to forget about, and Will finds himself opening his mouth to speak before he can convince himself otherwise.

“You kissed me, you did. The other night.”

Alex stares anywhere that isn't Will, tongue wetting his lips and the hand on Will's thigh completely unmoving. The air is tense but it isn't hard to breathe in, and a shaky exhale Will lets go of is too loud in the silence. Far too loud, far too telling of how nervous he is even just sitting here, waiting for Alex to say something-  _ anything _ .

The quiet is agonising, Will's entire body curling in on itself when Alex retrieves his hand back from Will's thigh and drags it through his own hair. His stomach shudders with a heavy, uneven breath, and Will wants nothing more than to take back the last minutes; to make Alex tea and sit down with him, at a respectable distance, and make the effort to find a movie to watch.

It's stupid, is all. That they're mates and they can't talk about something that happened a few nights ago on accident, when it was only a kiss and it lasted a handful of seconds at most.

Will clears his throat, meaning to talk and sort this out as jokingly yet diplomatic as he can, when Alex cuts him off.

“Should probably say it was an accident, shouldn't I? A mistake?”

“No,” Will interrupts.

“I should,” Alex continues. “I  _ should _ but I won't. Because it wasn't an accident, Will. Because I wanted to kiss you so I did, so it wasn't an accident. Or a mistake. I'm sorry, but it wasn't.”

Will relaxes, releasing the breath he's been holding. He wasn't sure what answer he wanted- if it would be better for Alex to laugh and say it was a dumb, meaningless mistake, or if Will, in some way, wanted Alex to want him. He knows now, from the telltale flutter of his heart, the way his eyes drag themselves to Alex's lips, how much Will has replayed the other night's kiss in his head.

The thoughts of what would've happened had he pushed further into the kiss, let nervous hands grab onto Aleks, texted him the day after to ask what it meant.

“-Will?”

“I'm here, just... thinking.”

“'Thinking?,’” Alex echoes.

“Yeah, thinking.”

Realising he likes Alex isn't nearly as terrifying as he thought it might be, even with the way his heart is beating and his palms are sweating. He, suddenly, misses the presence of Alex's hand on his thigh.

“Would you do it again, if I asked?” Will's tone is softer than he'd ever consciously allow, an uncomfortable vulnerability to it that he isn't sure what to do with.

“... Kiss you?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“You want me to?”

Will lifts his head the slightest and meets Alex's gaze, reads the hopeful confusion clouded in them. His pupils are wide, lips wet, and eyes darting over Will's face as though unsure of what to expect. He looks nice in this lighting, the same way he always does, but there's something in particular about right now that makes Will's blood run a bit warmer than usual.

“Okay, yeah, I can do that,” Alex manages, after a moment of quiet eye contact. “Tongue?”

“Whatever you want, mate.”

“Bit odd to call someone 'mate’ before a snog, isn't it?” Alex mocks, but his smile is comforting and inviting as the distance between them closes.

Alex is everywhere at once when he kisses Will, hands warm as they find a safe, testing place on Will's hips. It's different when sober- just as close as the first time, but more real. Jarringly real. Real and surprisingly not at all as terrifying as Will thought it might be, instead pleasantly reminiscent of the first kiss in a cool kitchen with the floor unsteady underneath his feet.

This time, they're sat together on Will's sofa, the bright of an approaching ten a.m lighting up the inside of the apartment. This time, they're sober. This time, Will won't go to sleep at night wondering what it means that they kissed, or that he liked that one kiss more than any kiss he's had in the past few years. In the past ever, maybe.

When Alex moves away, forehead pressed to Will's for a moment before he sinks against him, Will's heart instantly stops. Panic then relief, then the same exhaustion he had when he woke from overworking and overthinking.

“Could stay like this,” Alex says, words murmured against Will's chest. “For the whole day. And night. Stay in with you instead of going for drinks with Marriott.”

“Alex,” Will breathes, moving a hand to rest on Alex's back. “You sure?”

“Yeah, unless you've got a better idea. Because I quite fancy staying here, on the couch. Comfy, this is.”

Will closes his tired eyes, the strain of keeping them open having exhausted him even further. Alex is pressed against him, hair a tousled mess that Will will take full responsibility for, under the circumstances. It's a good look, nonetheless. Nowadays, everything is a good look on Alex; always has been, really. Will hasn't put much thought into it but he's noticed, because he's noticed Alex.

“We staying here?” Alex mutters, words lazy.

“Wouldn’t mind the rest, if I'm honest.”

Alex yawns, and it's contagious.

“Sleep, yeah?” Alex soothes, Will's fingers catching gently in his hair. “It’s still morning, get some rest.”

Will visibly relaxes, tension melting from his bones, and ignores the daylight pouring in through the window. He hasn't been this relaxed in weeks, with deadlines and videos pounding at his door every time he tries to put them to the back of his mind for a moment. Being with his friends helps; being with  _ Alex _ helps.

It's still morning, but Will is sober and sleep is calling him and everything feels as right as it should be. Alex is breathing softly against him, hair soft in Will's hand, and everything is right.

Replaying memories of Alex's lips to his, Will's consciousness steals away into sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

>  ♡.


End file.
